


Glory to the Wretched

by grimsgay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: (They're both adults tbh...), Also I'm only tagging characters who have made an appearance..., Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Dysfunctional Relationships, I will update tags with each chapter., I'm only tagging the main ships I have planned right now, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 02:39:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15014852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimsgay/pseuds/grimsgay
Summary: Judar's entire life has been a series of loss and struggle. Up until now, freedom has remained a distant goal, just out of reach. However, in his final year at Hogwarts, an unexpected ghost walks back into his life, and Judar is once more reminded that one can never truly escape a brewing storm.





	Glory to the Wretched

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes on this fic:
> 
> -This exists because in the ten years Magi has been around, nobody has written a Hogwarts AU longfic. Likewise, it is extremely self indulgent and will probably have a lot of LGBT characters because I'm gay and biased.  
> \- The SinJu will be first, and messy and dysfunctional at best. JuHaku will come later and will be more healthy...  
> \- Judar is the main focus because he's my favorite. That is all.

As a child, Judar had anxiously pressed his hands and face against the glass of the train window, teary eyes glued to the few familiar faces who had bothered to see him off. He'd hoped that if he moved close enough, he might magically sink through the barrier, and drift back to the life he knew. It wasn't perfect, but the unknown had scared him more than his guardians ever did. Now, he knows better. He's older and wiser, and while he still has decades of growth ahead of him, he no longer views the Hogwarts express with dread.

If anything, the train is a welcome escape.

He sits now, legs elegantly crossed, head propped on one hand as he stares out the window. Boredom masks his face, disinterest clouds his eyes, and calm fills his muscles. Occasionally, his gaze darts around the station outside, but it always inevitably settles on a fleck of debris stuck between the panes of window glass. There are people milling about - adults, waiting to watch their children disappear to school, and students, excited to see their friends once more. Judar is neither. He has friends, sure, though not many who would readily admit their association with him.

Perhaps it's a fault of circumstance, perhaps of his actions- he isn't completely sure anymore. His sour reputation is a mixture of many factors, some his choice, some not, but none good. Judar knows why he lacks friends, though he often remains apathetic towards his social status. Ultimately it's not friends who will further his career goals; it's strong allies and upper class acquaintances. However he might be treated at school holds no bearing on his future, provided he keeps up his grades. He will, of course. He has to.

He hears students shuffle past the door to his train compartment and sighs. It must be nice to share the ride with friends. Chances are he'll be stuck with those unlucky enough to board last and fail to locate other seating. That, or he'll be stuck with other students deemed undesirable in terms of social company. Both scenarios seem equally likely and miserable and Judar isn't sure which he'd prefer.

He's not given much more time to ponder, however, as the compartment door is suddenly being shoved open. Judar glances up, apathy shifting to confusion, and eventually to disdain. In steps a fourth year Gryffindor he'd really rather avoid entirely. Luck is not on his side. The newcomer closes the door and flops onto the seat across from Judar, arms crossed in a huff. 

"Hey, hey- Alibaba. You come to personally welcome me back ta’Hogwarts? Perhaps with a duel?"

"There weren't any other seats open." He pauses, then adds, "as if I'd willingly sit with a known bully." He tries to puff out his chest, whether in compensation or to breathe better, Judar isn't completely sure. Regardless it comes off as comical, and he has to bite his lip to maintain a neutral expression.

Judar shrugs, more than aware of his bad reputation. "Believe what you want. Everyone does anyway."

Alibaba squeaks. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Judar does not respond, instead turning his head to once more face out the window. A few minutes tick by in tense silence, Alibaba twiddling his fingers in discomfort and Judar attempting to ignore his existence. Their quiet duel continues until the door opens once more and they are joined by one of the few Gryffindor students Judar doesn't regularly consider cursing. 

"Morgiana," Alibaba greets.

Judar curiously makes eye contact with the young girl, only for her to bite her lip and look away. She gives a swift smile to her friend and sits beside him, though she does not speak. Alibaba, somehow, seems perfectly content with the silence, but Judar finds himself annoyed.

"Oi, aren't ya gonna say hello?" His comment causes Morgiana to stiffen, something infinitely more satisfying than any greeting could ever be. 

Alibaba locks eyes with him and snaps, "She doesn't have to. She acknowledged our presence."

"Uh, it's common fuckin courtesy to greet people. Ya know. With words?"

"She said hello with her eyes."

Judar gawks. "How th'hell does that even work?"

Alibaba shrugs and shifts his attention out the window, leaving Judar stuck in a dumbfounded stupor. He stares, struggling to grasp the fact that he'd been so blatantly brushed off. Eventually, he puffs out an irritated sigh and fishes a thin book out of his robe pocket. It's a muggle fairy tale - something that would be deemed insignificant to most wizards, and blasphemous to even more - but the wear and condition of the book cover show just how little he desires to throw it out, even after reading it countless times over the years. He opens the cover to the beginning and lets the familiar words sooth him into relaxation.

In his trance, Judar does not notice when the train starts to move. The next time he stirs is when - for the third time that morning - the car door slides open. Judar had expected another Gryffindor, perhaps someone the same age as Morgiana and Alibaba, but instead, he's met with a wide-eyed and very small child. He meekly pokes his head around the edge of the door and asks, "is that seat taken?"

Judar glances at the Gryffindors, then back at the kid. He can't be much older than ten or eleven, and Judar knows for sure he's a first year. Were he a returning student Judar would remember him. He shrugs. "Knock yourself out, kid."

At the open invitation, the first year brightens, and his demeanor suddenly flips entirely. While before he'd been reserved, with a slouching and nervous posture, he's now bubbly and eager to socialize. He climbs onto the empty seat next to Judar and pulls a medium sized wooden case onto his lap. The action is awkward at best, the kid's legs dangling oddly at the edge of the train bench. Fuck... He doesn't seem malnourished, but he could certainly stand to eat more. Maybe that would encourage a growth spurt or two.

Judar doesn't really care, but curiosity gets the better of him. He asks, "So, shorty. What's your name? You do have one, yeah?"

"Oh. I'm Aladdin! Nice to meet you mister."

Judar stares. Oh god... He hopes this kid doesn't expect them to be friends... "Yeah, okay. Whatever." He turns his focus back to his book while Aladdin fiddles with the metal handle on his case. He wouldn't exactly call it tension per say, but something draws him to break away from finishing his book. In the end he sighs, closes his reading material, and stuffs it back into his pocket, deciding to attempt conversation after all. 

Aladdin. '”Kay. Why th'hell-" The use of the explicative earns him a glare from the older students, so he clears his throat and corrects himself. "-Heck. Why the heck aren't you sitting with the other first years? Were there no seats left?"

"Ahh..." Aladdin looks down, his expression saddening. "Well, I was sitting with them... But they weren't very nice. Just because my dads don't have magic..." Judar raises a brow. Huh. Dads. Multiple. And the kid was being picked on for being muggleborn. Well, at least some progress is being made. Although bullying is still bullying.

"Eh. They'll move on sooner or later."

"I hope so. I just wanted to make friends."

He's not sure what compels him to act. Perhaps it's familiarity, perhaps pity, maybe even solidarity... However, his response is one of the most out of character things he's said in years. "Ahh. You can call me a friend. If you want..." It's the closest he's ever gotten to telling someone he wants to interact with them, much less to admitting friendship, and he can tell the two fourth years across from him are just as shocked as he himself is. 

Aladdin smiles, oblivious to the implications. "Okay! What's your name? It's important to know the names of friends."

"Judar-" He licks his lips, which are suddenly way too dry. His name feels heavy on his tongue, understandable, given the circumstances. "My name is Judar."

"Nice to meet you Judar!"

Judar nods, not really sure how to respond. Thankfully - or maybe not - Alibaba continues the conversation for him.

"I'm Alibaba, and this is Morgiana," he says, gesturing to the silent girl.

Interestingly enough, she smiles at Aladdin, and gives him a small wave, more attention than she'd been willing to spare for Judar earlier. He's really not surprised she'd ignore him given how awful most people's opinions of him are- Still... It stings. 

"You were being bullied?" Alibaba asks.

"Oh- Umm. Yes? I guess that's the word..."

"You gotta learn to stand up for yourself. Just... Tell them you're proud of your muggle parents. Don't let them walk all over you."

Judar scoffs, "Oh, yeah. Ya know. Because that totally works."

"What's your problem? What's wrong with encouraging self confidence?"

"What's wrong is that yer gonna get the kid beaten. Or hexed. Or both."

"You don't know that!" By now, Aladdin is nervously huddling in on himself. Alibaba turns towards him and softens his gaze, speaking in a sweetened and childish tone. "Listen, Aladdin... Judar's... He's not the best guy to take advice from. He's usually not very nice."

"You know what, for once I'm not trying to be a jerk. I'm speaking from experience." 

"You're scaring him!"

"Yeah, and you're teaching him shit that's gonna compromise his safety!" 

Fed up with Judar's elevated tone, Alibaba crosses the one line that could possibly set Judar off in this situation. "It's not like he has anything to be ashamed of. Muggle born wizards are just as valid as any others."

"Oh, isn't that just peachy coming from you." Judar sneers, finally snapping. "You know what kid, go ahead, go around screaming you're a filthy mudblood. Do it, I fuckin dare you. Then you'll see who your real friends are. Just don't come crying back with your tail between your legs because little timmy shoved your goddamn head down a fuckin' toilet." Aladdin, Alibaba, and Morgiana all stare at him, shocked. Judar doesn't even care that his choice of words have effectively ruined any chance of friendship he'd had with any of the three. He haughtily pulls out his book, shoves it in front of his face, and ignores any focus on him. 

The air remains thick with tension until the door slides open one final time and a small witch pushes the Honeydukes express trolley into the compartment. Judar ignores her, his mood soured. Sweets sound unappealing at best, and he's sure he'll regret eating if he tries. 

Aladdin, however, eagerly starts up a conversation with the witch about all the new types of snacks. As he then proceeds to buy one of literally everything off the cart, Judar realizes it's going to be a very long ride.

  
  
  


*****

  
  
  


The great hall is just as unassuming as he remembers from previous years. Once, the vibrance and surrealism had awed him; thousands of candles suspended mid-air by absolutely nothing tend to have that effect on children. Judar often wonders what his school life would be like had he not lost that adoration for the unknown. Perhaps he would still be staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at a mere light fixture? Perhaps he might attempt to float, himself? He eventually learned that the magic keeping them afloat is a mere suspension charm, not actual flight, but it did little to stop his daydreaming. What might it be like to simply fly away? To float off in the wind and simply exist in the universe. He often finds his mind drifting. Though, now is not such a time.

He sits idly at the far end of Slytherin's table. Though he is in his final year, his reputation remains less than savory and he does his best to interact with his housemates as little as possible. His eyes occasionally drift around the room as he picks at his only passtime; people watching. There's a young Hufflepuff girl bent over and cackling with laughter over what he can only assume to be some sort of bootleg muggle toy. He wrinkles his nose, withholding a fake gag. Gross. Muggle toys really should be kept out of the dining hall. 

It's only due to watching this girl that Judar catches a student standing up and heading towards him. He rolls his eyes, crosses his arms before his chest, and huffs out a sigh of indignation as the student takes a seat across from him. "Kouha. This is the Slytherin table."

Kouha grins and settles down onto the bench. "Eh, it's the start of term feast, they won't say anything. Plus you know they've been more relaxed about seating since the whole interhouse-relations bullshit started."

The reminder is enough to relax Judar, and he untenses. While he won't readily admit it, he is extremely relieved to have a close friend sit with him, even if only for a short while. "Hah, s'cause they're all convinced we'll get along like sunshine 'n fuckin rainbows- Can you imagine? Slytherin mingling with Gryffindor?"

"Can't blame them for wanting change."

"Still fuckin' ridiculous."

"Means I can sit with you at least."

"Yeah but you're Hufflepuff."

Kouha sticks out his tongue and pulls down his eyelid. "Bleh, Hufflepuff is awesome!"

"Hufflepuff is mostly pathetic whimps and idealistic children- Yer only there 'cause you asked the sorting hat to be."

"We have very different views of my house. Anyway, I'm proud to be a Hufflepuff."

"I still think you'd've made a better Slytherin."

"And be stuck in the dungeons? No thanks? I'd never be comfortable there."

"It's not that bad."

"It's pretty bad."

Judar is not given a chance to further comment, the conversation cut to an end by the headmaster standing before the entire dining hall. He is regal as ever, his posture perfect and borderline egotistic as he scans the crowd of students. Warm, knowing eyes briefly focus on Judar, and he feels a shudder wrack his thin frame. This does not go unnoticed to Kouha, who tilts his head and raises a brow. Judar shrugs it off and turns his focus to the headmaster. 

"Welcome back students! I'm sure most of you know who I am already- I'm not an easily forgettable face. But! It's the start of a new term, which means we're all another year older, and ready to welcome in another group of young witches and wizards." As he finishes speaking, the first years enter through the main doors, led by the Ravenclaw head of house. A majority of them look nervous yet amazed, and Judar suddenly misses the days when he too was that innocent. Truthfully, he has witnessed a similar ceremony numerous times in the past. Now, in his seventh year, it briefly crosses his mind that this will likely be his last time hearing the headmaster's rambling welcome. It's bittersweet and leaves a sour note on his tongue, but it's a reality he'll need to face sooner or later. Hogwarts has been his home for the past six years, and soon, he'll leave it behind.

He shakes himself out of his dismal thoughts and stares directly to the front of the room. 

"For all you brand new first years, my name is Sinbad; I'm the headmaster here." Sinbad pauses, likely for dramatic effect, if Judar knows anything about his personality. "Here at Hogwarts, you'll learn how to use your magic like proper witches and wizards. But! In order to do that, you'll first need to discover your houses~" 

Theatrically, Sinbad reaches into his robes and pulls out a hat, which, to the average person, may look like an ordinary headpiece. However, as soon as it's free from the headmaster's robes, it coughs and splutters as it roars to life, and it snaps, "it is so suffocating, being shoved into someone's clothes like that!"

The first years look startled, and many of them scoot back. Sinbad smiles and continues, "Now, now, it's just the sorting hat, no need to be scared. It'll be responsible for deciding your houses. Hmm... Who wants to go first?" Nobody volunteers.

One by one, the students names are called out and one by one, they are placed into their respective houses. Soon, the table ends fill with new life, and every set of eyes is focused on the one boy remaining unsorted.

The last student to go is the kid from the train. Judar tells himself he doesn't give a fuck, but ends up leaning forward anyway. Aladdin slowly stumbles up to the front of the hall and anxiously sits on the stool, closing his eyes as the hat descends. A couple minutes pass, and Judar is reminded of how long his own sorting took. Eventually, the hat calls out, "Hufflepuff," and Aladdin shuffles over to the appropriate table, his new housemates cheering wildly for him.

Relief floods Judar's chest. Hufflepuff is weirdly fitting, sure, but it's also the best house for a young and impressionable muggle-born to be sorted. At least this way he won't have to deal with blood supremacists on a regular basis.

Once the noise dies down again, Sinbad continues to speak. "Now, before we begin the feast, I'd like to remind everyone that entering the forbidden forest is absolutely not allowed, if it isn't obvious from the title. While we now have amicable relations with the centaurs, the acromantulas can and will attempt to kill you~!" Hushed whispers inform the first years that no, he is not joking. "With that, please enjoy the feast!"

With that, the food appears.

Judar and Kouha allow themselves to be swept into pleasant conversation as they dig in, hungry from the long day of traveling. Judar still doesn't have many friends, but at the very least, he's able to enjoy the feast. By the time it ends, and Judar returns to the Slytherin dungeons for the first time in several months, he is absolutely exhausted. For once, when he sleeps, he is completely at ease.

  
  
  


*****

  
  
  


A nail is wedged into Judar's coffin when, two days later, dinner opens with the sight of Sinbad holding the sorting hat. This would be a normal sight were it just a couple days prior, but since the first years have already been sorted, the hall is a whirlpool of confusion. By the time all the students finish flooding into the room, Sinbad is waving his hands around in an effort to quell the noise. 

"Well, looks like this year we'll be holding an extra sorting ceremony," he jokes.

"Extra sorting?" Hushed whispers circulate the hall as students struggle to grasp the headmaster's words.

"That's right. As you're all probably aware, we don't ordinarily accept transfer students, especially not after classes have already started. However... We have made exceptions before, and this is just another case of unusual circumstance." He clears his throat as he shuffles around the papers his announcements had been written on. Judar, for the life of him, cannot place the sense of dread he feels sneaking through his gut. It's illogical, unreasonable, and confusing. There's absolutely no reason for him to be anxious over a transfer student...

Sinbad brushes a hand through the back of his hair and flips his ponytail over the side of his shoulder. "This student has traveled all the way from Mahoutokoro in Japan to join his siblings here at Hogwarts" Judar freezes in his seat. There's only one wizarding family he knows of who spent any stretch of time in Japan. "While we don't generally hold sorting ceremonies for students older than eleven or twelve, we can't place him into a house without the sorting hat- so! Please welcome Hakuryuu Ren!" 

No.

No. It can't be. That name isn't- Judar's pulse picks up then, and he clenches his fists in an effort to keep his posture composed. There's absolutely no fucking way this can be the same Hakuryuu he knows. Not when-

Swiftly, he glances to Kouha, searching for some confirmation that this was planned, that his siblings were even aware- Yet, Kouha looks just a perplexed and taken aback as he himself feels. Kouha is certainly handling it a lot better than Judar; he's stiff, but does not appear to be in distress. Judar on the other hand... He feels bile rising in his throat, eyes manic as he glares daggers at the front of the hall.  

Hakuryuu, the last person he ever expected to see at Hogwarts, steps towards the headmaster. His pace is even, his stride regal, and his focus iron. He does not stop to look at any of the students staring at him, nor does he acknowledge it on his face. If anything, he looks bored. 

Judar watches, body stuck, as Hakuryuu kneels before the headmaster. Sinbad speaks, but the words do not register to Judar. The world is suddenly fuzzy- he watches as though through a bubble as the sorting hat is lowered. It barely touches Hakuryuu's head before a single word is called out-

"Slytherin!"

Judar's world breaks.

His peers around him are popping upright, applause ringing out through the entire hall. Even students from other houses cheer for the new Slytherin. Judar, however, remains seated.

It should be a joyous and festive occasion for everyone. Judar _knows_ he's being petty. He should be joining his housemates in their rancor, but instead he's frozen in his seat. The other students' excitement is too sweet, too sanguine. He feels bile creeping up his throat, and barely manages to suppress a gag as Hakuryuu turns away from the headmaster and moves towards the Slytherin table. Judar's scope of vision narrows until he can only focus on Hakuryuu, but Hakuryuu's gaze does not cross Judar's. He instead shifts his eyes around the room, occasionally smiling curtly at strangers. 

Inevitably he finds his way to where Judar and Kouha sit in uncomfortable silence and squeezes himself between the students directly across from them. 

Sinbad waves to silence the crowd, and order returns to the great hall. "Now that that's settled, please, enjoy your meal!" As per usual, trays and bowls overflowing with aromatic food appear on the table, a result of house elf magic. Judar doesn't pay attention to what appears, attention still solely on Hakuryuu. 

When they finally hold eye contact, Judar huffs, "pass the meat."

"Which meat?"

"I don't fucking care-" Judar snaps. "Any meat. I need protein if I'm going to properly deal with any bullshit right now."

One of their other housemates jumps in and murmurs, "jeez, man. Calm down. It's week one, no need to be so tense."

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down. I'll calm down when I wanna calm the fuck down..." Judar mutters, though he drops the topic when Hakuryuu hands him a plate full of various types of meat. 

Hakuryuu clears his throat, watching intently as Judar shoves food into his mouth, all the while maintaining a childish pout. "So, how is it?"

Judar deadpans. "Oh you know. Meaty. It's fan-fucking-tastic."

"Are you sure?" Hakuryuu asks.

Judar snips, "it's fucking meat. What the fuck do you expect me to say."

"...You don't look like you're enjoying the meal all that much."

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem it."

Judar stares. Hakuryuu, of all people, dares to push him towards spilling his feelings. Oh god. As if the concept didn't nauseate him enough with anyone else- The thought of talking to Hakuryuu after the distance that's been built through years of no contact makes him almost visibly gag. He glares at his so called childhood friend. "Yeah well, things aren't always what they seem, Hakuryuu." It's meant to be a personal attack, though Hakuryuu merely brushes it off, clearly missing what Judar is referring to. 

The discomfort in the air resumes, though it's mostly one sided. Hakuryuu cares more for his food than he does reading the atmosphere. Clearly he's choosing to ignore Judar, which only serves to cause further irritation. Judar wants to punch the relaxed expression off his face. Kouha picks up on this and looks nervously between the two of them. "Well, I'm going back to my table now, see ya." Then he's gone, faster than he'd appeared.

"It's good to see you again," Hakuryuu says, picking up another dainty forkful of food.

"I'm not responding to that." 

"You just did."

Judar feels anger building in him again, and chooses to repeatedly stab his fork into a piece of chicken. Imagining it's Hakuryuu's face does nothing to ease his mood, but it at least gives his hands an action to perform. If he keeps busy he's less likely to snap and act on impulse. Anyway, his appetite is effectively nullified. Any further attempts at eating will probably not stay down.

Hakuryuu huffs. "You shouldn't play with your food-"

Judar's gaze snaps upright and he glares sharply. "Fuck you. I don't want to hear it, okay?" Then, he's back to mutilating his abandoned meal.

Thankfully, Hakuryuu does not attempt to speak to him again. Hah. So he finally picked up on the tension? Judar wants to laugh away his frustration, but he holds it back. He isn't sure what pisses him off more - the fact that Hakuryuu took this long to figure shit out, or the fact that he's actually respecting Judar's boundaries. 

He wallows in his own discomfort until dessert is served, and students begin dismissing themselves from their tables. He pushes himself dramatically upright and turns without any further speech, doing his best to rush back to the Slytherin common room. The likelihood of solitude is slim, but he wants to be left alone. 

  
  
  
  


*****

  
  
  


Following the feast, and their brutally uncomfortable dinner conversation, Judar does his absolute best to avoid his new housemate. Most of his peers are fascinated and excited to gain a new Slytherin their own age, and truthfully, were it any other person, Judar knows he would be too. Hakuryuu, however, is a different story. Judar is still struggling to grasp the idea that the youngest Ren brother was attending Hogwarts, much less that he was in the same house. He refuses to interact with the new student unless absolutely necessary.

In the end, Judar doesn't have to seek him out; Hakuryuu comes to him.

"Hello," Hakuryuu greets. 

"So you're lookin' well."

"Yes, I'm in decent health."

"...Really well, actually, especially for someone who's been dead."

"Dead?" Hakuryuu scoffs. "Hardly. Where'd you get that nonsense idea?"

Judar does not respond verbally, instead choosing to merely bite his lip and glare. The awkward silence between them grows more tense as it sinks in that no, for once, Judar is not speaking in jest. Hakuryuu blinks, confusion turning to worry, and swallows heavily.

"Judal-"

"No."

Hakuryuu extends a hand towards Judar but he flinches away, his eyes shifting everywhere but Hakuryuu's face. "Judal. Look at me." Judar's eyes shift, he flinches, and he's forced to turn away.  Fuck... He can't look. He really can't. He hadn't noticed before, back when adrenaline was still running high and his anger was driving his actions, but now it's impossible to miss the vivid burn scars adorning Hakuryuu's face. They serve as a permanent reminder of past tragedies.

"You thought I died."

"You never bothered to tell me otherwise."

"I assumed you knew..."

"What, I'm so unimportant you can't even write me to say, 'hey, guess what Judar, I didn't horribly burn to death with my two dead fucking brothers and I'm actually alive and still very much breathing'!" Okay, maybe that's a little harsh, judging from how badly the younger boy tenses, but hey, he's not known for his tact. 

"That's- Listen- I don't want to fight about this-"

Judar cuts him off again. "Oh? What do you want to fight about then? _The weather_?"

"I don't want to fight with you at all."

Ahh. He's being petty. Though irritated, he can at least see he's being unreasonable. Sort of. Will he stop? Probably not,  but he'll at least let Hakuryuu speak. "Fuck. Fine. Go on, what do you want then? It's after hours, you want something. 'Else you'd be asleep right now."

"I need your help."

Judar wants to scream. He really wants to just fucking breathe in, open his mouth, and then let loose with a decimating shriek of frustration. He doesn't- Instead, he forces his muscles to remain still, anger prickling beneath his skin and setting his blood ablaze. Tension crackles in his breath as he stares up his once childhood friend, now turned- well, truthfully he doesn't know what Hakuryuu is anymore. He's beyond pissed off. This boy has the fucking audacity to wake him at ungodly hours of the night to ask for help after literal years of zero contact. Oh fuck no.

"You want my help." Judar repeats, slowly, the words heavy on his tongue. "Dare I ask with what?"

"Ah." Hakuryuu's posture changes, then, shrinking. Judar, were he any less irritated, would probably find it concerning. Now, he just wants to punch the pureblood. 

"Yeah?"

"The fire wasn't an accident."

"Well no shit- It was Death Eaters. Everyone knows that, so what the fuck does that have to do with-"

"Can you let me finish?" Judar lets his lack of response function as his answer. "The fire was caused by Death Eaters, kind of... I always thought it weird that they were able to enter despite our family's blood magic protections on the manner, but I did some digging, and my mother-"

At the mention of his mother, Judar suddenly straightens his posture and interrupts Hakuryuu. "Ooookay- I'm gonna stop you there."

"Judal-"

"Nah, nope. Nuh-uh. Not fucking happening. You can't just waltz into my life after I thought you were dead for like eight entire years and feed me some wild conspiracy theory about how your mother like... I don't know... Let the Death Eaters in? Is that what you were going to say?" 

"That's not-"

"Yeah, thought so." Judar pauses, watching as a very flabbergasted and wide-eyed Hakuryuu attempts to formulate a response. "Listen to me, and listen clearly. Whatever the fuck you're planning, leave me out of it. I don't want your mother picking a fight with me over some of your bullshit. Not this close to graduation, not after Hogwarts, and certainly not while I'm breathing."

"Judal-"

"And for the fucking reccord, _Hakuryuu_ , my name is _Judar_. Kindly leave me alone and go fuck yourself to sleep~!"

With that, Judar slams the door to the seventh year dorm room in Hakuryuu's face, the silencing charm he'd previously cast the only thing keeping his roommates trapped in slumber. He slides his back against the door and sinks to the ground, folding his knees up to his chest. Oh god... It's too much to process at once. Finally, the weight and struggle of the evening catches up to him and he feels wet warmth slide down his cheek. Reaching a hand up to wipe away his tears, he forces out a bitter laugh. 

Hakuryuu is alive. The fire that had taken both his older brothers had not in fact taken him, and he is fucking alive. Judar, until this morning could not possibly imagine anything that could tear his rigid appearance to shreds, yet here he is, sobbing quietly to himself. It's weakness and he absolutely despises it- He wants to slam his head into a mirror repeatedly. At least then the broken glass would give him a reason to break.

When his roommates wake to find him still huddled by the door, tear stains marring his pajamas, Judar passes it off as a bad reaction to alcohol. Nobody questions him, instead shrugging it off as just another escapade of his. Thankfully, the truth will remain up in the air for the time being.

Yet...

As Judar goes about his morning routine and makes his way to breakfast, he makes a firm decision. Hakuryuu has already caused him enough despair, intentional or not. Regardless of what happens, Judar will not let Hakuryuu affect his life any more. Not past events, not his current mood, and certainly not his future. No matter what, Judar will keep his distance, for his own sake.

He only hopes Hakuryuu will choose to do the same. After all, Judar might be a fuse, but Hakuryuu is the lighter, and sooner or later, someone is going to burn.

 


End file.
